


The Way Back to You

by slashy (slashmyheartandhopetoporn)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmyheartandhopetoporn/pseuds/slashy
Summary: Keith and Shiro's ups and downs as they traverse university life.





	1. Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> never written an au before! let alone a college au, lol. let's hope it goes okay!
> 
> (these were my 7 fills for #sheithweekunlimited. I was unable to finish due to other life circumstances, but the last chapter was a happy one, and I’m satisfied with the way it closes out this slice-of-life series.)

When Keith gets back to town the Friday before the start of the Fall semester, the first thing he does (after checking into his new apartment) is head for the university diner. It should be open, what with classes starting on Monday and the dorms having been open for the entire previous week, and if the diner is open then he knows Shiro is likely to be there. Keith’s not ready _at all_ to face the older student, but he knows it’s the first thing that needs doing. When Keith had gone on academic leave, it had been with the understanding he’d keep in touch with Shiro, which Keith did sporadically for the first four months. But then his phone had been destroyed, and he’d lost Shiro’s number. His own number had changed as well. And that had been the end of that.  
  
It had been four long months since Keith had last spoken with Shiro, and the time had come to change that. He was nervous, of course, but there was nothing to be done. Shiro deserved better, and at the very least he deserved an apology.  
  
So Keith makes the brief walk from his yet-to-be furnished apartment to the university campus, and then heads directly for the diner. He gets there quickly, his nerves about the meeting moving his feet more quickly than he intends, and walks through the door. His eyes scan for the tell-tale undercut. The shock of white bangs. And when his gaze lands on its target, Keith’s breath catches.

Shiro’s in a booth with a couple of friends—Allie and Matt by the look of the hair—drinking a pint and throwing his head back to laugh at something someone’s just said. He only stops when Matt, sitting beside Shiro, catches sight of Keith and nudges Shiro sharply. When his eyes find Keith, he freezes. Then he stands so sharply he almost upturns his beer. 

“Keith?” Shiro says, breathless.

From across the room, amidst turned heads and a sudden silence from the other patrons, Keith gulps and waves his hand weakly. “Uh...hi.”

They end up in a booth towards the back of the diner. Shiro orders another Newcastle, Keith a Coke, and they sit in awkward silence for a solid three minutes. It feels like three weeks to Keith.

“Nice scarf,” Shiro finally says. 

Keith blushes and looks down at the red knit scarf he’s wearing, despite it being far too warm for the accessory. “Thanks. A... _friend_ gave it to me.”

Shiro’s cheeks go pink as well. “It looks good on you.” He clears his throat. “So, you’re back. You are back, right?”

Keith nods. “Yeah, I’m back. Ana--I mean, _Mom--_ and I agreed I couldn’t miss more school.”

“I can’t say I’m not glad to hear that. Still, I think it’s amazing that you found her. And that you got to spend so much time getting to know her finally.” Shiro’s fingers tap a nervous rhythm against his pint glass. “What’s she like?”

Keith doesn’t really want to talk about his long-lost mother. He’s had eight straight months of talking to and about her and their largely non-existent relationship, and Keith really just wants a break. But he understands why Shiro’s asking—and, _god,_ Keith can’t believe he’s even here with Shiro in the first place, so he doesn’t say _I don’t want to talk about it_. He just shrugs.

“She’s...fine. A lot like me, really.”

“So, kind? Smart? Hard working?” Shiro offers with one of his unbearably soft smiles.

Keith’s cheeks break out again in a faint blush. “I was going to say she’s kind of a bitch. But I mean that in a good way. It made her easier to be with.”

Shiro’s hands twitch around his beer glass, like he wants to place them elsewhere and then stopped himself.

“I’m...so glad that you’re here, Keith. I missed you.” He swallows. “A lot.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” Keith looks at Shiro, eyes holding eyes. “I’m sorry I quit texting. There was an accident with my phone. I lost all my numbers. Which, really was just _your_ number, then _my_ number changed when I got a new phone.”

For a moment, Shiro’s eyes slip away. He shrugs his shoulders. “You could have emailed me.”

Keith knows. The thought had occurred to him about a week after the incident with his phone. But he’d been in the midst of an especially hard time with Ana, and he’d known that if he’d talked to Shiro in any capacity, he would have felt compelled to explain everything going on. Shiro, in all his calm concern, would have encouraged every one of Keith’s insecurities to be drawn to the surface without Shiro even trying. It was just the way it was between them. Something about Shiro called out to Keith’s deepest most guarded places, and broke down every wall without a word.

And Keith just hadn’t wanted to go there. He hadn’t wanted to talk about the issues with his mom. Hadn’t wanted to unpack his most secret fears and sadness, certainly not over the phone if he’d still had access, and most definitely not over email. So Keith had put off contacting Shiro. For a day. And then a week. Then a month. And then it had been August and Keith hadn’t shared a word with Shiro since April.

“I know,” Keith says. Shiro looks back at Keith, and then it’s Keith’s turn to look away. “I’m sorry. I just. Couldn’t. And it was a shit thing to do. You didn’t deserve it.”

The fondness is Shiro’s eyes says that Keith is already inexplicably forgiven. “I'll let Allie beat you up for it and call it even.”

Keith chuckles. He can see Allie from their place in the back, her eyes an icy laser focused on Keith’s heart. “Yeah, she looks pretty pissed at me.”

Shiro ducks his head. “She’s just protective. And besides, I’m not sure who’s actually angrier about you being back, Allie or Lance.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Keith says. His palm goes to his forehead. “I forgot about Lance.”

“Well, if you look to your right you’ll get a helpful reminder.”

Keith does just that and sees Lance sitting with his friends, Hunk and Pidge. Hunk and Pidge look mildly surprised to see Keith, but Lance looks devastated.

“He probably hoped I had died or something.”

“Okay, well, I doubt that.”

Keith looks unconvinced. But he still takes the chance to make eye contact with Lance, and then throws him a wink. Lance doesn’t appreciate the gesture and quickly looks away with his arms crossed.

“Don’t know why he’s so upset. Since I’ve been gone for a semester, we shouldn’t be in any of the same classes. In fact, he’s ahead of me now, which he should love.”

Shiro’s hands twitch around his beer again. But still they don’t move from their place.

“So you’re going to continue studying aviation?”

Keith nods. “Yeah, I am. I mean, being a pilot’s really the only thing I’ve ever consistently wanted for myself, you know?”

Finally, Shiro’s hand makes a move. Slowly, Shiro wraps his non-prosthetic hand around one of Keith’s.  “I think that’s great, Keith,” he says quietly. Then, “Is this okay?”

Keith looks down at their hands and nods again, a jerky motion.

He had forgotten how this felt. He had forgotten so much in the eight months he’d been away from Shiro. Keith had forgotten that all things feel possible with Shiro. That his hand is always warm. His smiles always soft. That being near Shiro feels like being near every good thing you could possibly want, and then some.

They had only just been exploring this part of their...relationship…when Keith had gotten the first phone call from Ana. In fact, their first kiss had been only a day before, on the first day of Winter Break. Shiro had just given Keith the red scarf for Christmas, and Keith had been so overwhelmed by the gesture that he’d pulled Shiro down for a hug. It had been the most physically intimate the pair had been since they’d started spending time together back in September when they’d met through the fencing club. It had felt amazing to hold Shiro so close. To smell his cologne clinging to the collar of his shirt. To feel the muscles of Shiro’s arms against his own. Keith had held him tight, savoring the warmth Shiro always seemed to emanate, and as he’d finally pulled back, Shiro had caught Keith’s chin with his hand, and leaned in for a gentle pressing of lips. Perfection. That’s how Keith had felt about the kiss, that it had been _perfection._

And the very next day Ana had reached out, and Keith’s entire life had flipped upside down. He’d left to meet up with Ana the day after that, and they had decided together that Keith should go on academic leave for a semester to devote some time to connecting with his mother. She lived three states away, and after spending most his life as an orphan, Keith had wanted nothing more than to go to Ana, if for no other reason than to ask her why she had left.

But it had been difficult leaving Shiro and their fledgling relationship. It had hurt more than Keith had ever anticipated to say goodbye, especially to say goodbye so quickly while they both felt on the verge of something so deeply important to each of them.  And now Keith is back, but he can’t help but wonder if he’s irreparably damaged what he and Shiro had only just started to build when he left.

Shiro’s hand on Keith’s suggests Keith has not. That there is still room to hope. Keith moves his hand so that his fingers twine with Shiro’s. “I still want this,” he whispers. “I never stopped wanting this.”

“I didn’t either,” Shiro confesses. “In fact, I want this more than ever.”

Then Shiro leans forwards. Keith meets him in the middle, and he’s delighted to realize that their second kiss is just as perfect as their first.

“I almost,” Keith says, breathless, after they part. “I got you something for your birthday. I’m sorry, by the way, that I missed it.”

Shiro’s grin is the happiest thing Keith’s seen in eight months. “It’s no problem,” Shiro says. “So did I.”

Keith shakes his head as he takes out Shiro’s gift. He remembers this year wasn’t a leap year, and also that Shiro is the king of making bad dad jokes. He had forgotten.

Shiro takes the gift reverently, like it’s precious simply because it’s coming from Keith. He opens it quickly, tearing neatly at the wrapping paper and piling it up to the side. “Aw, Keith,” he says. “I love them.” Then Shiro tries on the fingerless, black leather gloves that Keith had picked out for him while out running errands with Ana.

“You really like them?” Keith asks.

Shiro’s gloved hand takes Keith’s again. “I do.”

“I was worried they might not fit over the prosthesis.”

Shiro raises his gloved prosthetic hand too. “Worry not,” Shiro says. “It fits perfectly.”

“Then I’m glad,” replies Keith. “They look good on you.”

Shiro quickly leans across the whole table to kiss Keith again. “Thank you,” he whispers against Keith’s cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Keith whispers back. “I guess the last thing to do is exchange numbers.”

Shiro takes out his phone. “Yeah, I’m not letting you go dark on me again.” He hands his phone to Keith. “Put in your new digits.”

Keith does, and then waits for Shiro to text him. He watches Shiro type something into his phone, then stares expectantly at his screen. The message comes through a moment later.

_Hey, Sweetstuff! Want to catch a movie tonight?_

“Oh my god, Shiro,” Keith says, face hot. He readies his response.

_Only if you never call me that again._

Shiro laughs when he reads the message.

_No promises, Buttercup._

Keith looks away, repressing a grin. “Unbelievable,” he mutters. He puts down his phone so that he can take Shiro’s hand again. “Thanks for sticking with me, Shiro.”

Shiro squeezes Keith’s hand. “And thank _you_ for sticking with _me_.”

And Keith can’t help but feel a little more optimistic about the year to come.


	2. Growth

“Babe, come on. We’re going to be late.”

Shiro looks at his watch for the tenth time in the last five minutes. He knows Keith isn’t over the moon about their plans for the night, but this is getting ridiculous.

“Relax,” Keith snaps. Shiro folds his arms and watches Keith take a breath. “Sorry. Sorry. I need one more minute. Just have to grab my wallet.”

Shiro cocks his head and leans back against the door jamb to Keith’s bedroom. “I think tonight’s going to be really fun. I just want you to give them a chance.”

“I will. I am. That’s why I agreed to go out with everyone tonight in the first place.”

Everyone, in this case, is the combination of Shiro’s friends from the graduate school (Matt and Allie), and Keith’s kind-of friends from the aviation department (the infamous Lance, Pidge, and Hunk). Pidge and Matt are siblings, so Shiro had had the excellent idea–if he does say so himself– to just get everyone together for a few rounds at the bowling alley in town. Everyone knew everyone else anyway between Matt and Pidge, and despite the varying ages and interests, they’d all managed to have fun together before. Well, without Keith, since they’d last all gotten together while he was on leave. But that was why it had been so important to Shiro now to have everyone—Keith included—all do something fun together.  

Shiro watches Keith violently shove his wallet into his back pocket. “Then why are you dragging your feet?”

Keith sighs. “Because I’m nervous, okay? I’m nervous about hanging out with Lance and Allie at the same time. Sure, Lance is mostly over our non-existent rivalry and Allie has mostly forgiven me for the whole thing where I broke your heart, but like…it’s not like we’re all friends! Also, I’ve never even bowled before!” He runs a hand through his hair. “There’s a lot to be nervous about.”

Shiro’s brows raise. “Okay, so firstly, with your hand-eye coordination, bowling is going to be a breeze for you. Secondly, Lance’s issue with you is clearly some weird mix of jealousy and respect that makes it hard for him to tell if he wants to hate you or love you, and depending on how you handle his insecurity around that, you could steer him either way. Thirdly—” and by now Shiro is counting on his fingers “—Allie’s just fiercely protective of the people she cares about, and I know once she spends some more time with you, you’ll be one of those people she protects. Fourth and finally, you so totally didn’t break my heart.”

Keith blinks at Shiro. “Well, then. I guess we should go.” He breezes past Shiro as he walks through door, and mutters under his breath, “And I so totally did.”

Shiro laughs, despite himself, and grabs Keith’s hand as he passes. 

Twenty minutes later they’re at the bowling alley. Allie and Matt are already there, and they wave at Shiro and Keith as they walk up to the lane.

“I went ahead and bought the first game,” says Allie as she stands up to give Shiro a kiss on the cheek. She ignores Keith.

“With so many players, we weren’t sure if we’d want to play more than one. But I’ll get the next round if we do,” Matt adds. He smiles at both Keith and Shiro. “Hi, by the way.”

Keith smiles and waves. “Hey, Matt. Allie.” Allie nods at Keith, and then turns around with a flounce.

Shiro watches it happen and gives Keith a nudge. “We will have fun tonight, so help me,” he whispers, mostly because he knows his desperation will make Keith laugh.

Keith snorts and squeezes Shiro’s hand. “Whatever you say, big guy.”

A moment later, Shiro watches Hunk, Pidge, and Lance walk in through the automatic doors at the front, laughing about something as they make their way across the tacky neon carpet.

“What’s up, my dudes?” Lance says with his arms opened wide, and Shiro has to fight not to roll his eyes. He likes Lance, but he also understands exactly why Keith has a harder time with him.

“Hi, Lance,” Allie says with a flirtatious smile. Shiro doesn’t know to what degree she’s kidding when she flirts with Lance. Shiro’s not sure how much Allie knows either.

He watches Pidge and Matt share a special handshake, and then Hunk gives Matt a high five. Shiro feels how outside of things Keith is, and understands how much worse that isolation must feel to Keith himself. But Shiro also knows he can only facilitate the group’s friendship with Keith to a certain degree. At some point Keith will have to step in and make the effort.

But for now Shiro does what he can. He fist bumps Hunk and Lance, and pulls Pidge in for a hug. His relationship with her and Matt goes a little farther back. Matt’s father, Sam, is a professor in the zoology department–in fact, he’s Shiro’s advisor. And while Matt’s getting his MA in biology and Shiro is PhD in zoology, Shiro’s still been at Matt’s house more times than he can count, thanks to the link with Sam.

“Thanks for coming,” he says to the group. “Keith and I have been looking forward to this all day.”

Keith nods. “Yeah,” he says awkwardly. “It’s good to see everyone.”

Allie looks like she doesn’t believe him, but Matt, Pidge, and Hunk are all smiling. Lance folds his arms and fall back into a chair.

“We bowling or what?” he says.

“We are,” Shiro agrees, clapping his hands together. “Allie, if you want to set the teams up and get everyone’s name in, I’ll go get us something to drink.”

“Of course,” Allie agrees. Shiro gives Keith a parting wink, and then walks off towards the food counter.

He only feels slightly bad about abandoning Keith to the group. Keith’s come a long way from the beginning of the year, in a lot of different arenas of his life. He’s renewed his efforts in his studies. He’s kept up his relationship with his mother. He’s worked hard to, if not befriend Lance, then at least convince the other aviation major that Keith isn’t out to get him. And Shiro couldn’t be prouder. He’s seen how hard the past semester has been, and he’s gotten more insight into Keith’s life before getting out of the foster care system and going to college. Shiro’s got an idea of where Keith’s coming from, and how far he’s already grown. He just wants everyone else to see how amazing Keith is.

Which is why Shiro’s relieved when he walks back to their lane with a pitcher of beer and two gallons of soda in hand, and sees Keith sitting with Lance. They’re not laughing, cozying up right next to one another, but their body language is open and neither of them looks angry. Shiro counts it as a win. 

“That test killed me,” Lance says as Shiro comes up behind them.

Keith smiles. “I don’t know why Iverson has to make his tests so unnecessarily specific.”

“I know,” Lance agrees emphatically. “Like, I know we need to  _know_  this shit, but do we need to, like…really know all of it?”

“Sweet,” Lance says when he notices Shiro’s return. “Beer!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Shiro says, handing Lance one of the bottles of soda instead.

With the help of Pidge and Matt, Shiro gets everything unloaded onto the table they’ve requisitioned, then heads over to the rack to pick out a ball. Everyone else has their already, so once Shiro picks his, it’s time to bowl.

Shiro ends up on a team with Allie, Lance, and Keith. The grouping only slightly surprises him. Pidge, Matt, and Hunk make up the other team, and while Shiro thinks it’s a good arrangement on both sides, he can practically cut the tension on in his team with a knife. He leans against Keith while Allie grabs her ball and readies her throw.

Shiro watches Keith watch Allie bowl a strike. “She’s good,” Keith says as Allie turns around and looks pleased with herself.

“Don’t worry. When it’s your turn, I’ll show you what to do,” he whispers to Keith.

“Nice throw,” Lance says, voice sultry.

“Thank you,” Allie says with a smirk. Shiro has to admit, just about everything Allie says sounds better with that accent.

“You’re giving him false hope,” he says as Allie walks up to him and Keith.

“Nonsense,” she counters. “He knows I would never.”

Keith looks at Lance. “Does he though?”

Allie looks at Lance as well. He’s still making some kind of face he likely intends to be sexy in her direction. Her smile falters. “Perhaps not.”

Hunk walks up to the lane next, holding his bowling ball like a parent would cradle their child. He lowers and raises his ball a half dozen times, eyes narrowed in concentration, before finally stepping forward and letting the ball go with a flourish. It immediately ends up in the gutter.

“Come on, Hunk,” Pidge says with fake offense.

“I’m just warming up,” Hunk insists as he watches the ball make its slow journey to the end of the lane.

“Sure you are, bud,” says Lance.

“I believe in you, Hunk!” Matt adds, pumping a fist. “The first throw is always terrible.”

Allura snorts. “I respectfully beg to differ, Matthew.”

Hunk throws again. This time, four pins go down.

“See?” he says as he sits back down by Pidge.

She nudges him with his elbow. “Yes,  _much_  better, Hunk.”

“Thank you,” he says. “It’s only up from here.”

Then it’s Keith’s turn. Shiro walks with Keith and then stands close behind him. He puts his prosthetic arm underneath Keith’s as he practices his swing.

“When you swing your arm,” Shiro says quietly into Keith’s ear, “Try not to let it turn inwards. Keep it focused outwards.”

In front of him, Keith shivers. “This is embarrassing, Shiro,” he mumbles. But when Shiro goes to step back, Keith’s free hand grabs behind him to capture Shiro’s arm. “I’m not saying you should stop.”

Shiro grins and leans momentarily into the crook of Keith’s neck. Keith still smells like the cologne he put on that morning, the one Shiro bought him for his birthday.

“And when you release the ball, aim your hand for the top of pins. And remember–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith interrupts. “Patience yields focus.”

Shiro’s arm follows Keith as he swings it backward and then forward. The ball, when Keith releases it, lands on the flooring with a decisive  _thunk._ Then it makes its way to the gutter faster than even Hunk’s had.

“Well,” Keith says, voice flat. “That wasn’t ideal.”

“Don’t worry about it, Keith,” Hunk says. “It’s like Matt says! The first throw is always the worst.”

Keith smiles, and Shiro can see the way it reverberates throughout the group. He’s not sure anyone else has had the privilege of experiencing Keith’s true smile. “Then it’s a good thing I have the night to practice,” Keith says with a shrug.

“That’s the spirit,” Pidge says, offering Keith an air-high five he awkwardly returns.

And that’s how the night goes. Shiro watches as everyone grows more comfortable, Matt, Allie and himself loosened by the alcohol, the rest of the gang loosened by the camaraderie growing amongst them and the mozzarella sticks Hunk keeps buying. They end up bowling two games, and by the end of the night Keith is high-fiving Lance and joking with Allie, everyone caught up in the carefree atmosphere. 

As they’re returning their shoes at the very end, Allie sidles up to Shiro and leans her head against his shoulder.

“He’s all right, I suppose,” she says.

Shiro watches as Keith stands off to the side with Hunk and Matt. “He is,” Shiro agrees, warm and happy. “I think I’m in love with him.”

Allie snorts. “Oh, you  _think_ , do you? I’d say it’s terribly obvious to just about everyone here besides Keith himself.”

Shiro sighs. “Maybe I should fix that.”

Allie lifts her head and winds her arm around Shiro’s. He looks down at her and feels inexplicably warmed.

“Let’s go, loverboy,” she says. 

Back at Keith’s apartment, Shiro sits with Keith on the couch while Netflix plays quietly on the TV. Keith has put on some eighties cartoon about people who ride around in space in mechanical lions. It’s silly, but kind of addicting.

“Why don’t any of the lions have manes?” he asks.

From below him, where Keith’s head rests in his lap, there is a snort. “Not everyone cares about those kind of details, Mr. Zoologist.”

Shiro’s hand runs through Keith’s hair. “Just seems kind of weird is all.”

“You’re kind of weird,” Keith says instantly back. Like a five year old. His eyes are on the screen, caught up in the show. Shiro’s just caught up in Keith.

“Well,” he says, taking a deep breath. “This weirdo kind of loves you.”

Below him, Keith goes still. Shiro feels his heart in his chest, beating so fast he’d be worried if he wasn’t already worrying about Keith’s response.

Keith sits up. Pauses the television. Turns his body on the couch so that he’s facing Shiro. “Say it again,” he asks, voice small.

Shiro knows his cheeks must be tomato-red. “I love you,” he says. “And not just kind of. I love you like crazy.”

The kiss shouldn’t take Shiro by surprise, but it does. Keith is practically in Shiro’s lap.

“I love you too,” Keith says when they part for air. 

“Well,” Shiro says again. “Then good.” He feels a bit shell-shocked.

A moment later, Keith is back laying down. The show starts playing again. It’s like nothing and everything has happened. And Shiro feels in that moment that anything is possible, so long as Keith is by his side.

 


	3. Long-Distance Relationship

It’s just by chance that Keith is there the day Shiro gets the letter.

“Oh, shit,” Shiro says, and Keith pauses in the middle of tossing his things on Shiro’s couch.

His backpack sits awkwardly in his extended hand, halfway to the mark. “Everything okay?” he asks.

Shiro’s looking intently at an envelope he’s holding in his hands. “Is this what I think it is?”

Keith, of course, can’t answer.

“I think so,” Allie says from the couch where Keith was going to haphazardly leave his items. Her eyes stay focused on the Fab Five onscreen.

Keith finishes tossing his things down, letting his backpack strap graze the top of Allie’s head, then walks back to Shiro. “What is it?”

“It’s from the zoo,” is all Shiro says. It’s all Shiro has to say. 

“Oh, shit,” Keith echoes. If it’s from the zoo, then that means Shiro’s about to find out about the internship he applied for. 

“So open it,” Allie says. Still, her eyes stay on the screen. Her practised disinterest always astounds Keith, who has been attempting to reach Allie-levels of aloofness for well over a decade. 

“Okay, okay,” Shiro says, but his hands don’t move. “Actually...I need you to open it.” He’s looking at Keith. 

“Oh, come on, Shiro!” Allie finally turns her gaze away from thee TV, one arm thrown back behind the couch so she can better stare incredulously at Shiro.

“It’s fine,” Keith says, eyes on his boyfriend. “I’ll open it.”

Keith doesn’t really want to open the letter. He doesn’t want to have to be the bearer of bad news if its contents are not the desired ones. But he also knows how badly Shiro’s wanted this, how many times he’s applied and waited and been refused. He knows how hard it will be if Shiro gets another rejection, and the anxiety currently crippling him because of that very fear.

So Keith takes the envelope from Shiro and breaks the seal as carefully as he can. Allie and Shiro watch, breath bated. Keith feels like he’s diffusing a bomb. 

“Can you  _ go _ any faster,” Allie says, terse. 

“Allie,” warns Shiro. It’s the sharpest he’s been with her that Keith has heard. 

Keith pauses and looks at Shiro. “It’s going to be okay whatever happens. You know that right?”

Keith watches Shiro take a deep breath. “I do,” he says.

“Okay.” Keith finishes opening the envelope. He takes out the enclosed letter. His eyes flit through the words until they land on the most important ones.

“Holy fuck, Shiro, you’re going to San Diego!”

Pandemonium. 

Or, at least, as much pandemonium as three people in a small apartment can manage. Allie jumps on and then  _ over _ the couch to embrace Shiro, who’s already engaged in swinging Keith around in circles. Everyone is screaming. 

“Playing with the big boys now,” Allie says as she clings to Shiro’s neck, dropping kisses on his shoulders. “I’m so excited for you!”

Keith can’t even find it in himself to be jealous. He’s learned by now that the relationship between Allie and Shiro is deep and complex. They hadn’t always been friends. There had been points in their five year history where they had been more. And points where they had been less. They’d seemed to have found their happy medium now though, and while their easy intimacy had been hard for Keith to adjust to, he’d had to finally learn to get over himself. It was the path of least resistance; Allie and Shiro were never going to be less than exactly what they already were. 

Now, Keith barely minds that Allie is holding onto Shiro as tightly as Keith is, that she shares an equal part in this celebration of Shiro’s success. 

Later, after a celebratory dinner with Allie and a few drinks even Keith took part in, they lay in Shiro’s bed in the dark with their hands linked on Shiro’s chest.

“So...what does this mean for us?” Keith finally asks into the quiet.

Shiro looks at Keith, confusion clear. “Nothing? I don’t think? The internship is eight weeks, but that’s not the  _ whole _ summer, and I’ll be able to call. I mean, I know it won’t be the most fun to be away from you for so long, but I wasn’t thinking it’d be an actual, you know. Problem.”

Keith listens to Shiro’s words and lets them sink in as he can.  _ Eight weeks _ . He had known this logically, but hadn’t let himself really  _ feel _ it until this very moment. That was a long time to be without his best friend. A long time not to hold his hand. Not to kiss his lips or his wrists or his stomach. A long time not to feel Shiro beside him on the couch or in bed or on the bus. They’d gone days without seeing each other before, of course. They even went almost two weeks once when Keith and Shiro both left for the holidays with their respective families. But  _ eight _ ? That would be new for them, and Keith was nervous.

_ Won’t be the most fun _ . That was an understatement. Keith values his independence, and knows that there are plenty of times when Shiro likes to be alone too. But Keith’s had Shiro beside him for roughly a year, not counting that first semester before Keith went on leave, and he’s got a sneaking suspicion that eight weeks without his partner is going to be, in a word, terrible. 

_ Problem _ . And that is the kicker. Would it be a problem? Keith isn’t sure he knows the answer to that. He doesn’t doubt the strength of their relationship, he knows that much. He doesn’t doubt that Shiro deserves this, or that he himself will get along just fine for the time Shiro is gone. But, Keith realizes with an unpleasant sinking feeling, he’s not ready to be alone again. He’s had over a decade of loneliness, and he’s not ready to be by himself for two more months. He says as much, letting his selfish confession out into the dark of Shiro’s room. 

“I think I’m just going to miss you more than I’m comfortable with.”

Shiro lets out a surprised huff. “Don’t want to miss me, do you?”

Keith punches his shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. That’s not what I mean.” He hopes Shiro understands that.

Shiro nuzzles his nose into Keith’s hair. “I do. Caring about people is hard work, isn’t it.”

Keith swallows. “It is. And I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You  _ won’t _ be, you goose. You have people in your life now.”

Keith thinks of Allie and Lance. Pidge and Hunk and Matt. And he knows Shiro is right. He does have people in his life, and he shouldn’t forget that. 

He throws a leg over one of Shiro’s and wriggles as close to Shiro’s body as he. “You’re right, I do. I’m sorry I’m making this about me--about us--when it should really be about you. I am so, so happy for you, Shiro.”

Beside him, Shiro smiles. He looks sleepy and happy and he makes Keith want to cry.

“Thank you, love,” Shiro says. His voice is a whisper, but the warmth it radiates is loud and clear. 

A month later, Keith is driving Shiro to the airport. He’s driving Shiro’s car instead of his motorcycle since Shiro has luggage, and Keith gets a strange thrill out of being behind the wheel instead of in the passenger seat. Allie and Matt are in the backseat so that Shiro gets the best possible send-off once they reach the airport, and the mood in the car is buyuant despite the fact they’re all getting ready to say farewell. Allie and Matt serenade Shiro as Keith drives down the highway, and even Keith gets in on the singing when Matt and Allie start in on a song he knows. 

And then Shiro is unloading the car. Standing at the terminal with his things in his hands. Staring at Keith with an impossibly fond look in his eyes. 

“I love you, baby,” he says softly to Keith. The low volume is for naught--Allie and Matt, though a few feet behind Keith, hear it anyway.

“Aw, Shiro loves you, baby!” Allie and Matt call out, their hands clutched to their hearts in twinned expressions of glee. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Shiro says with a laugh, but he only has eyes for Keith. Keith throws up the bird himself, but his eyes stay on Shiro, too.

“Have the  _ best _ time, Shiro,” he says. “Seriously. I hope it’s everything you could possibly want.”

“Pet lots of lions,” Matt says, stepping forward.

“And please don’t lose your other arm in the process,” Allie adds. 

“You’re hilarious, really,” Shiro says, finally looking at Matt and Allie. “Truly the funniest people I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.”

“But you love us, baby!” says Matt.

“I was looking at Keith.”

“Yeah,” Keith says. “He was looking at  _ me _ .”

Finally Shiro extends his arms. “Can we just hug it out, guys? End on a nice note? Since I am getting ready to leave for eight weeks?”

“Don’t remind me,” Keith says, launching into Shiro’s arms. He really, really doesn’t want the reminder. But then Allie and Matt are beside him, holding Shiro as tightly as Keith is. 

“Have fun, be safe, etc. etc.” Allie says into Shiro’s shoulder. 

“And call us when you can,” adds Matt. “We can totally FaceTime you into karaoke night.”

“Not sure if that’s a good thing, Matt,” Shiro says, squeezing the three of them tightly. “But thanks.”

Then they’re making their final  _ final _ goodbyes. Everyone says  _ I love you _ , everyone gives Shiro a kiss (Allie on Shiro’s cheek, Keith on his lips, and even Matt gets in to peck Shiro’s hand with a dramatic flourish), everyone waves until Shiro takes the last step into the airport and disappears out of sight. 

Keith watches him go with his heart growing heavier the farther away Shiro gets. He knows in his core that this is excellent. That Shiro is going to get the experience he deserves, and that helps set him up for all future successes. This is good. But he’s already missing Shiro more than he thought was possible. Eight weeks is a long time, especially when Keith is already struggling with the first eight minutes. 

But the first eight minutes becomes the first eight hours, which in turn becomes the first eight days, and Keith finds he’s getting through it better than anticipated. Shiro, of course, was right. Despite Shiro’s temporary absence, Keith isn’t alone as he’s been in the past. He still talks to Shiro daily, but beyond that he sees Allie throughout the week, coming over for dinner often. He spends his free time when not in summer classes (a decision made to help make up for his time on leave) with Lance, Pidge, and Hunk. Keith’s life, to his surprise, has become one populated with people who matter, and it’s a strange fact to accept.

And of course, running through it all, is Shiro. 

“My baby’s all grown up,” Shiro tells him. “Making friends. Living your best life. So mature!” Keith has his phone propped up on the kitchen counter so Shiro can watch through the video feed as Keith chops garlic for dinner. 

“Fuck off,” Keith mutters, but he’s smiling. 

“I will not,” says Shiro. “I’m too proud.” Keith watches Shiro pretend to wipe away a tear. Then, “What’s for dinner?”

“Stir fry,” Keith answers. 

“Are you using the Shirogane Family Secret Recipe?”

“Actually, the sauce is one of Ana’s.” Cooking, it turns out, has been one of the easiest ways for Keith to keep in contact with his mother. They exchange recipes every few weeks. They chat a little when they do, but otherwise don’t talk much. Rome wasn’t built in a day, Keith supposes, and even though he spent a few intensive months with Ana a year ago, he knows a real relationship is going to take a lot more time to build for the two of them. 

“Nice,” Shiro says. “I hope it’s a good one.” 

“Me too,” Keith agrees. “She swears by it, but she also likes some weird shit, so we’ll see.”

They talk like that for the rest of the night, Keith carrying Shiro around as he goes about his nightly routine. There are patches of silence, but nothing uncomfortable, and the evening ends with Keith tucked into bed with his phone on his nightstand. Shiro’s in bed too, sitting up with his phone in his hand.

“I’m so ready to be home,” Shiro says. He sounds more tired than he has since he left.

“ _I’m_ so ready for you to be home,” says Keith. “My bed is too big without your broad shoulders to take up all the room.”

“Two more days,” Shiro says with a laugh.

Keith smiles. “And I’m counting down the hours.”

“Sleep tight, sweetstuff.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Keith finishes.

Shiro blows Keith a kiss. “Love you, baby.”

Keith sends one back. “Love you, too.”

“See you soon.”

Keith can’t fucking wait.


	4. Conflict

When Shiro comes back he’s greeted by Allie, Matt, Pidge, and Hunk. Lance has gone home for the summer, so he’s conspicuously absent. And of course, there is Keith. 

The whole group is a sight for sore eyes, but Keith is by far the strongest balm. Which is why Shiro is surprised when the group dog-piles him as soon as he steps through the secure exit with his luggage in hand, and Keith hangs back from the fray. 

“Wanted me all for yourself?” Shiro asks as he walks up to Keith after extricating himself from the others. 

Keith doesn’t say a word as he grabs Shiro by the shoulders and drags him down for a hard, passionate kiss, the public nature of their setting be damned. Shiro drops the luggage in his hands immediately, and throws his arms around Keith, lifting him up and around. When he pulls back, it’s only long enough so he can catch his breath, then Shiro dusts every inch of Keith’s face with quick soft kisses.

“Shiro!” Keith says. “Shiro, enough!” But he’s laughing, and then Shiro is laughing, and then Shiro worries he might be crying. Fuck, he’s missed Keith. So he tells him so.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

Keith squeezes him tighter. “Not as much as I missed you.”

Ten minutes later, everyone has strapped themselves into Hunk’s Bronco. Pidge sits in the passenger seat, Matt and Allie in the seats behind them, and then Shiro and Keith in the very back row. Allie sits with her body half-turned on the seat so she can look back at Shiro. Keith sits beside him and holds his hand, his thumb caressing Shiro’s knuckles. It feels unbelievably good to be sat beside him with the rest of his found family to the front of him. 

“I’m so glad you all came to get me,” he tells them. 

Allie smiles, happy. “Yes, well, everyone wanted to see how ridiculous you and Keith would be after so long apart.”

“Is that so?” Shiro says. “I hope we didn’t disappoint.”

“Definitely didn’t,” Pidge throws back over her shoulder. “That was some ace romance fodder. When you swung him around?  _ Swoon. _ ”

“Did you hear that?” Shiro says to Keith. “ _ Swoon _ .”

The faint blush on Keith’s cheeks at the teasing adds ten years to Shiro’s life. He loves this man so much. 

They stop for dinner at Shiro’s favorite pizza place once they get back in town. The mood is light and happy, but Shiro is beat from the plane ride. He’d had to get up at four a.m. to make it, and he feels the fatigue bone-deep. The carbs just make him sleepier, and he feels himself drifting as he leans into Keith’s shoulder. He tells himself the exhaustion is the only reason he allows Keith to sneak sips of his beer despite being underage and in the middle of the restaurant. 

When Hunk finally drops Allie, Shiro, and Keith off at Shiro and Allie’s apartment, Shiro feels about ready to fall over his own feet. He lets Keith push him back into the bedroom, where he unpacks Shiro’s bags while Shiro brushes his teeth and changes into his sleep clothes. It’s hardly late enough for bed, but Shiro wants desperately just to be comfortable. He falls onto his mattress with a deep sigh and watches Keith put away his clothes and his shoes and his toiletries. They don’t speak, which Shiro is all right with. They’ll have all the time they need for talking now that he’s back. 

“You’re so pretty,” Shiro says eventually, sleep-drunk.

Keith snorts. “Thanks, babe. You’re pretty too.” He pauses as he puts on one of Shiro’s shirts to sleep in. “You need a haircut, though. And a dye job.”

Shiro smiles. Keith had been his primary barber for the last half a year. It had felt wrong to let someone else cut and color his hair in San Diego. “I’m thinking of growing it out,” he says. 

“Oh, so you didn’t just wait to get back home so I could have a go with the clippers? I see how it is.”

Shiro shakes his head, caught in his lie. “Okay, so I didn’t want anyone else to cut my hair.”

“You old sap,” says Keith as he crawls into the bed. “I wouldn’t have been offended.”

“I know. But I just...didn’t want to.”

Keith runs his hand through the aforementioned locks. “Do you actually want to grow it out? I could live with that.”

“We could have matching man-buns.”

Keith gasps. “The dream.”

“But no,” Shiro says after a moment. “I don’t think I’m ready to grow it out. Though I’m glad we’ve had this very important talk about what would happen if I did.”

“Communication is the key to a healthy relationship,” agrees Keith.

“I’m glad you think so,” Shiro says. “Because there is something I want to talk to you about.”

He hadn’t intended to bring this up yet. But the relaxed mood of the evening encourages Shiro onwards. And it feels so good to have Keith with him in bed, that Shiro feels the pull to have this all day, every day, too strongly to keep quiet.

Keith looks sideways at him, head cradled on Shiro’s considerable bicep. “Oh?”

Shiro takes a breath. “How do you feel about living together?”

It’s very clearly not what Keith expects to hear, because his only response is a confused, “ _ Um _ ?”

Shiro feels the need to explain. “I just...I thought about it a lot while I was in California. We’ve been together for over a year, and it’s been, by far, the best year of my life because of you. It felt like the next step to me, and I wanted to see how you felt about it.”

Keith looks away, and Shiro feels his nerves ratchet up a notch. 

“I mean,” Keith starts. “Someday I would absolutely love that.”

“Someday,” Shiro echoes.

“Yeah….”

“But not right now?”

“...No.”

Shiro sits with that a moment. It hadn’t been the answer he’d anticipated. Sure, he’d felt some anxiety about moving in together would be natural—he had some himself—but he’d still fully expected Keith to say yes, even if it came with some reasonable apprehension. He definitely hadn’t prepared himself for Keith to say  _ no  _ outright.

“Can I ask why?” Shiro says after Keith’s answer has settled a little further in his mind. 

Keith sits up, putting some distance between himself and Shiro. “I’m not ready for such a huge fucking step, Shiro.”

Shiro sits up too. “Is it really so big?”

“I’m  _ sorry _ ,” sputters Keith. “Yeah, it kind of is. For  _ me _ at least.”

Shiro looks away and resists the urge to cross his arms. He doesn’t want to come off as defensive, even though that’s exactly how he’s feeling. The more they talk about this, the clearer it is that Keith finds the idea almost repulsive, and that doesn’t sit well with Shiro. 

“Then forget I asked,” Shiro says around the lump in his throat. “Pretend it didn’t happen.”

But of course, that isn’t actually possible for either of them. Keith lays down, and Shiro reluctantly follows him. They lay silently staring at the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” Keith says.

“It’s fine,” Shiro says so quickly he almost cuts Keith off. “It’s not a big deal.”

It takes another ten minutes of silence for the iciness to thaw between them. Eventually Shiro turns to bring Keith in for a tight embrace, his face buried in Keith’s chest. He smells like Shiro’s laundry detergent. 

“Are we okay?” Keith’s voice sounds fragile above Shiro’s head.

“Of course we are,” Shiro says. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Keith responds, but each of their words feels off-kilter, as if something important has shifted between them in an unexpected and not entirely optimistic new way. 

The sleep Shiro falls into is colored by the tension, and though he can’t remember his dreams when we wakes up the following morning, he doesn’t feel anywhere near as rested as he’d hoped he would. It doesn’t help that he wakes alone, Keith’s side of the bed cold, as if he’s been long-since gone.

Shiro feels his stomach clench, suddenly worried he’d done some irreparable harm the night before. But then Keith is padding back into the room, still in Shiro’s shirt and also sporting a clean pair of Shiro’s socks, two mugs of coffee in his hand. 

“Morning, buttercup,” he says with a smile, and Shiro’s stomach relaxes. 

“Morning, sweetstuff,” Shiro replies, and he knows things will be okay.

He’s mostly right. Though he and Keith are clearly happy to be back in each other’s orbit, something between them doesn’t fit as neatly together as it did before he’d left for San Diego. Or rather, before Shiro had mentioned moving in together. He’s not sure what to make of the shift, because he’s not yet sure of exactly what’s changed. He can’t name it, so he has no idea how to tackle it. He doesn’t mention living together again, but still he feels Keith stepping back in small but significant ways.

“You haven’t been staying over as much,” Shiro finally says one day about two weeks after he’s gotten back. They’re walking the aisles of a local record store, Shiro with his arm draped over Keith’s shoulders.

Keith shrugs underneath Shiro’s arm. “Been working a lot now that summer classes are done. You know I’ve been exhausted.”

Shiro pulls Keith in and drops a kiss on his head. “I know. I could come over, though.”

Which is when Keith gently pulls himself out of Shiro’s grasp, and takes a few steps forward to look at a rack of old cassette tapes that Shiro knows Keith has no way of playing.

“Maybe sometime next week,” Keith says, noncommittal.

The helplessness Shiro feels is palpable. He wants to scream in the middle of the whole damn store. 

_ What the fuck is wrong? Why are you still upset with me? What can I do to fix this? _

But of course, Shiro does no such thing. He lets Keith walk away from him as a weight settles in his chest so heavy he feels ready to collapse.

Time does not help close their sudden distance. Rather, with time, the distance grows. Keith comes over less frequently, claiming fatigue from work, and Shiro finds invitations to Keith’s apartment even less often. He’s at a loss. He knows he needs to just  _ ask _ what’s going on, but his fear at the answer keeps him from doing so. Their summer is dwindling away, and Shiro fears that once school starts back up, Keith might actually become lost to him. He knows he needs to act.

Not even Allie has many words of advice. As his longest-running and most trusted advisor, this scares Shiro almost as much as Keith’s behavior. 

“You already know you should just talk to him. I don’t know what else you expect me say.”

Shiro looks at Allie, watching as she flips aimlessly through the latest issue of  _ Vogue _ . 

“It’s not that I expect you to give me different advice,” he says. “I guess I’m just hoping you have some insight.”

Allie looks up from her magazine with a scoff. “Insight into  _ Keith _ ? Have you gone mad? That boy makes absolutely no sense to me. Sorry, love, but I can’t help with that.”

Shiro lets his head fall back. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“Then talk to him. It’s not that complicated.”

“Oh, it’s not?” says Shiro. “So you’ve reached out to A.J. then?”

Allie’s eyes narrow. “Rude, Shiro. Shockingly rude.”

Shiro knows it was a low blow. Allie’s relationship with A.J. has been a long convoluted saga of betrayal and passion, love and heartbreak. It wasn’t very kind to throw him in Allie’s face. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Allie closes the magazine. “I’m going for a walk,” she says. “You should call your boyfriend.”

Shiro watches her go. Then he calls Keith.

Keith’s mood, when Shiro picks him up for dinner, is surprisingly carefree. He smiles wide when he sees Shiro, dropping a kiss on Shiro’s lips as if forgetting that they haven’t properly kissed in a week. Things stay easy all the way through dinner and the movie that follows, and Shiro is relieved when Keith throws up the armrest between the luxury theater seats so he can better curl up next to Shiro as they watch the film. It’s a good night, and Shiro’s grateful for that. 

It even goes well when Shiro asks if Keith wants to spend the night with him. It’s been over a week since they’ve simply laid together, body against body, skin against skin, and he misses Keith. 

“How about we stay at mine?” Keith says, and something in his tone tells Shiro that Keith means exactly what Shiro thinks he means when he drops the invitation. 

After, they lay in the quiet of Keith’s roommate-free apartment, as they have done so many nights before. Somewhere outside, the music from a nearby party carries in through Keith’s window. It’s shitty background music to their intimacy, but Shiro can’t bring himself to mind it. 

“Keith,” he says into the silence.

“Mmm?” is Keith’s sleepy response.

“Are you still in love with me?”

The questions hangs between them. Shiro almost can’t believe he put it into words and voice. Beside him, Keith goes tense.

“Shiro,” he says. His voice sounds tight, like he’s holding something back with all his might. “I couldn’t fall out of love with you if I tried.”

Shiro swallows. “Have you tried?” he chokes out, because relieved or not that Keith still loves him, he has to know.

Keith sits up, as he had weeks ago when Shiro had asked him to move in. But this time he doesn’t do it to distance himself, but rather so he can look more directly into Shiro’s eyes. “Of fucking course I haven’t,” he says, firm. “Not even for one second. I  _ love _ you. And I’m going to forever, goddamnit.”

Shiro wants to cry. He  _ does _ in fact, begin to feel the tears well in the corners of his eyes. He has more questions, but at least this worry can be put to rest. He reaches out to Keith, then, desperate for more contact. “Kiss me,” he says.

Keith obliges. Shiro feels closer to him than he has in weeks.

“Why does it feel like you’re leaving me?” Shiro whispers against Keith’s cheeks as he hugs him tightly. 

“I wouldn’t,” Keith insists. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“Then just tell me what’s been going on. Please.”

Keith sits back and takes a breath. He holds Shiro’s hand, his fingers twining with Shiro’s. “I don’t know how to explain it. You scared me when you asked about moving in together.”

“But  _ why _ ?”

Keith shrugs. “Because I love living alone, Shiro. It’s that simple. I love it.” 

He stops to catch himself. Shiro’s not sure he’s ever seen Keith this raw before. 

“Ten years in the foster care system, being bounced around from home to home. I’d never had a space that was  _ mine _ until I came here for school.” Keith looks away. Wipes angrily at a runaway tear. “I’m not ready to give that up. Not even for you.” He says this last part quietly, almost like he doesn’t want Shiro to hear.

Shiro listens and feels something release between them. For the first time in a while he knows they’ll be okay. He pulls Keith closer. 

“All you had to do was say that, Keith. I would have understood. I  _ do _ understand.” And Shiro does. It’s not how he feels, but he can grasp--now that Keith has put it into words--why he wouldn’t want to sacrifice this part of himself. 

“I thought you’d be hurt,” says Keith. 

“The silence hurt more.” Shiro doesn’t mean to be unkind, but he can’t pretend the last few weeks haven’t been a certain kind of hell. They had been worse than his time away in California. Keith hadn’t been near to him in some ways then, but in others he’d been closer while Shiro was in San Diego than he’d been ever since Shiro had returned. 

“I know. But I didn’t know how to say this to you in a way that didn’t feel so fucking selfish. And I thought you still...I was afraid you were going to broach the subject again--”

“But I didn’t!” Shiro interrupts. “And I wasn’t going to.”

“I know, I know. But I was afraid anyway. It was all I could think about. And I was giving myself a hard time over the fact that I didn’t want it. What was wrong with me?” Keith looks so frustrated. Shiro wants to kiss his temple and tell him not to worry. 

“I love you,” Keith continues. “You’re the love of my fucking life. Why don’t I want to live with you right now? I didn’t have any answers that made sense.”

_ You’re the love of my fucking life _ . Shiro feels his head reel. 

“You’re the love of my life, too,” he says back, dumbfounded. Fuck, he’s in so over his head with Keith, and he doesn’t want it any other way. 

Keith just shakes his head, a smile on his face that makes Shiro’s heart ache. “I just kept thinking about when I lived with Ana for those eight months. It was fine, you know. We got along well enough, all things considered. But after a semester to myself, that was almost the hardest part. Losing my space again. Having to share it.”

“I’m not your mother, Keith,” counters Shiro.

“I know that. But I’m still not ready to give up living by myself, and I think until I am, if I were move in with you, I’d resent you like I resented Ana. It’s not like...it’s not your fault. It wasn’t  _ her _ fault either. It wasn’t personal. But my space is  _ mine _ , and I’d resent anyone who got in the way of that.” 

Keith looks at Shiro. “I don’t want to feel anything like that towards you, Shiro.”

“Then we won’t move in together. We don’t have to. I just want us to be okay.”

“We are, as far as I’m concerned.”

Shiro laughs. “Well, good.”

They sit in bed together, holding hands and looking at one another like they’ve each hung the moon. 

“So we’re all right?” Keith asks carefully.

“We’re golden, baby,” answers Shiro. 

Shiro still can’t remember his dreams when he wakes the next morning, but he feels so good as he blearily opens his eyes that he’s certain Keith was in every one of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments always welcome if you're digging this fic!


	5. Harmony

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Keith shrugs. “Me neither.”

He watches as Shiro wrestles with the Christmas tree they’ve chosen, fighting to put it on the roof of the car.

“You know, you could help.”

Keith crosses his arms. “I’m good, thanks.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” grumbles Shiro.

“I’m _also_ lucky you’re so damn strong.” Based on the look Shiro shoots back at him, Keith knows the only reason he doesn’t flip him off is because Shiro’s hands are full of Douglas Fir.

“I think this tree is bigger than my car,” says Shiro. The tree in question is finally attached to Shiro’s black Honda Fit.

Keith tilts his head. “You might be right. That’s what happens when you drive a dinky ride.”

Shiro’s eyes narrow. “Come on, man, don’t insult Voltron like that. You’ll hurt his feelings.”

Keith pats Voltron’s hood. “Sorry, dude. My bad.”

But Keith’s point still stands. Shiro’s car is small, and it feels even smaller when they’re both inside of it. It certainly seems too small for a man as big as Shiro.

Keith says as much for the hundredth time.

“But the mileage, baby. The _mileage_.”

It’s Shiro’s standard response, and to hear it makes Keith smile. At least some things never change.

Of course, some things still do. Keith doing something fun for the holidays, for example. That hasn’t happened...ever…as far as he can recall. Some of his Christmases were all right, depending on where he was staying at the time, but most of his holiday experiences have been nothing of note. But this year would be different, because this year he and Shiro had decided to spend Christmas together. And at Shiro’s behest, they were pulling out all the stops. Keith’s plain apartment had thus been transformed: lights in every room and around the front door, a live Christmas tree, plastic snowflakes hanging on this sliding glass door, a blow up snowman on his balcony. And Shiro had bought all of it.

“So why don’t put some of this stuff at _your_ place?” Keith had asked.

“Because Allie hates Christmas.”

“No one hates Christmas.”

“Fine, Allie hates the _commercialization_ of Christmas, which isn’t that much better.”

Keith had frowned. “That I can understand. You did spend way too much money.”

Shiro had waved a hand. “Are you kidding me? I bought most of this stuff the day after Christmas last year.”

Keith’s head had tilted. “Why?”

Keith still remembers the way Shiro had blushed and darted his eyes away from Keith’s face. “Well,” he had said.

“It’s a deep subject,” Keith had replied in the hanging silence.

Shiro had glared. “You’re not allowed to laugh, but I kind of hoped we’d do something like this the next year.”

Keith hadn’t had any desire to laugh. Shiro’s unexpected answer had struck him silent. He knew they were committed--had known it for a long time at that point--but still. That Shiro’s vision of their life together could be traced back so far had been significant. So Keith had kissed him. It had been wet and rough and long. Shiro had pulled back from Keith with his lips red and swollen.

“Let’s have the best damn Christmas ever,” Keith had said.

And here they were, two weeks later, in the middle of Keith’s decked out one-bedroom with a huge tree that completely dwarfed his living room.

“So, it’s a little big,” Shiro concedes. “But it smells great.”

“It’s the only thing I can smell at all,” Keith counters.

“Then how great that it’s a good one!”

“That’s definitely one way of looking at it.”

The uncertain look on Shiro’s face makes Keith regret giving him a hard time. He knows this Christmas means a lot to Shiro, and it means a lot to Keith, too. He doesn’t like that he may have suggested otherwise.

“I’m kidding,” Keith says, nudging Shiro with his shoulder. “It looks awesome. I’m excited to decorate it.”

Of course, Keith is somewhat terrified to decorate the tree too. Its size alone intimidates him, but the sheer number of ornaments Shiro had carted over (“Your car may be tiny, but damn he holds a lot of shit.”) makes Keith’s head spin.

“Did we need this much stuff?” he asks as Shiro unloads.

“Variety is the spice of life,” Shiro replies.

“Yeah, in the bedroom maybe. But on our Christmas tree?”

Shiro pulls a face. “I won’t apologize for my holiday cheer.”

“Not even the tinsel?” says Keith. “I didn’t even think people still _used_ tinsel.”

“It’s nostalgic.”

Keith side-eyes his boyfriend. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you.”

Shiro shrugs. “I’m excited about having this with _you.”_

The words land like a blow. Keith feels his chest tighten, and adamantly refuses to get too emotional. “Me too,” he manages to push through his constricting throat. The lump there grows threateningly.

Shiro’s smiles looks forced. “Yeah, that’s why you’re so enthusiastic about everything.” He says it like a joke, but Keith knows him too well. There’s a part of Shiro that isn’t kidding.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, and he means it. “I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” He moves behind Shiro and wraps his arms around his belly. “I don’t have a lot of happy memories of Christmas, and I’ve never really had a reason to take it seriously. Not until now, at least.” He rests a cheek against his shoulder blade and feels Shiro’s chest expand and collapse. Shiro is warm, and he smells like the tree they’ve just dragged into the apartment. He’s right: it’s a nice scent.

Shiro’s hands take Keith’s. “Come here.”

Keith does.

“I don’t have a lot of happy holiday memories either. And I’m sorry if I’m forcing this too hard with you. I just wanted us to make something nice together.”

“You’re not forcing anything. I want that too,” says Keith. “You’re right, I’m just being a dick.”

Shiro drops a forgiving kiss on Keith’s nose. “It happens to the best of us.”

Then they get down to decorating. Keith is pleasantly surprised at how fun it all is. Shiro suggests they string popcorn, so Keith is tasked with digging out some older bags of microwave popcorn, and they snack on the pieces too brown to put on the tree (because _aesthetics_ Shiro had insisted) as they go. After the popcorn comes the tinsel, which is a terrible mess, as Keith had suspected, not to mention, they learn very quickly that putting the tinsel on _after_ the popcorn was a far-from-ideal choice.

"We've made a huge mistake," says Keith as the tinsel catches on the strands of popcorn and makes them almost impossible to see properly.

"Listen," replies Shiro. "It gives it character."

Keith side-eyes him, but says nothing. There's not much to do about it now either way.

Then, after the tinsel comes the myriad of bright colored baubles that had caught Shiro’s eyes as he had perused the clearance shelves at Target the previous December.

The warmth that permeates the room is only partly from the heater. Keith watches Shiro carefully place glitter-painted balls on the higher branches, and feels something grow brighter inside of him. This _had_ been a good idea, and he’s so damn grateful Shiro made them do it.  

“Hey, when we’re done, do you want to watch a movie?” he asks, and it’s an unexpected answer even to himself.

Shiro looks away from the miniature nutcracker ornament he’s debating where to place. “Sure,” he says. “What were you thinking?”

“So it turns out I do have one okay Christmas memory.” He pauses.

This memory is old, tainted by all the bad ones that followed. Keith is hesitant to dredge it back up in case his younger-self’s desperation for some happy thoughts about Christmas have romanticized the one okay memory he could recall and overlooked any negative aspect of it. Keith doesn’t want to be wrong about this.

Shiro waits patiently for Keith to continue.

“One year, when I was staying with the the Yeuns, we watched this old musical. _White Christmas_ , I think it was called. I remember it being pretty all right. We could watch it, if you want. In the spirit of things.”

Shiro’s smile is too knowing for Keith’s taste. “In the spirit of things?” He echoes. “That sounds great. I actually love that movie. We used to watch it when I was a kid.”

Keith tucks that newfound knowledge away. Shiro doesn’t talk much about his childhood, and so Keith treasures any piece of information Shiro shares with him.

The rest of the decorating passes in a comfortable silence punctuated only by small laughs and brief comments about the particularly unique ornaments Shiro has collected. While Keith recognizes many of Shiro’s choices as conventional—snowflakes and glass balls and gingerbread men—there are also a handful of less common options. There are little felt lions in white, black, green, yellow, red, and blue. A spaceship hanging from a pink string. A bright orange moustache with an attached stick so it can be removed from the tree and worn for a laugh. Keith stares at the small sky-blue geometric crystal and side-eyes Shiro.

“This feels traditional.”

Shiro shrugs. “I picked out some because they made me smile or I thought they were interesting.” He nods at the crystal in Keith’s hand. “That one I just thought was pretty.”

“Hey, no judgement,” Keith replies as he hangs the ornament. Then, “Oh, damn.”

“What?” asks Shiro.

Keith leans down to pick up the small plastic fencing foil. “Where’d you find this one?”

“Shit, I’d forgotten about that one. I can’t remember, honestly. I was buying Christmas stuff wherever I saw it.”

Keith looks down at the foil and smiles. “Why a fencing foil though? You quit the club ages ago.”

Shiro nods. “I know we both had to drop the club because of time but...I’m always going to be grateful to fencing for introducing me to you.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees, cheeks hot. “Me, too.” He lifts his chin up so Shiro will bend down and kiss him. Shiro does so immediately. Then Shiro takes the foil and places it on a the nearest tree branch.

“Okay,” he says. “I think we’re done.”

Keith steps back and takes in the whole tree. It’s a riot of light and color. “Yeah, I think we are. It looks….”

“Fucking awesome.”

Keith thinks it looks like a happy, beautiful mess. He wraps an arm around Shiro’s waist. “That it is.”

“Ready for a movie?” Shiro asks a few moments later, eyes finally pulling away from the tree.

Keith nods. “I’m going to see if there’s any bags of popcorn left.”

There is, and they munch on it happily as the characters on screen sing about sisters, snow, and wishing they were back in the army. Keith is relieved that his memory served him well--the movie is delightful, and the way he rests against Shiro’s chest, Shiro’s fingers curling into the strands of Keith’s hair, makes the movie all the more enjoyable.

As the final scene plays out, everyone on stage with an enormous tree and young girls dancing as the snow falls behind them, Keith feels fuller than he has in a while. Even with Shiro and Allie and the rest of the crew, the holidays have been hard. They always are. And though having Shiro around this time has improved things, there’s still been an emptiness in Keith’s heart that he hasn’t ever been quite able to fill. To many years lost to hollow times at “home” and no one to truly call family.

But tonight, as he feels the warmth of his body merging seamlessly with Shiro’s warmth beside him, that empty feeling that’s taken up residence seems to finally have left him. He doesn’t feel bereft; he just feels _right_.

He looks up at Shiro as the last notes of music play out the film. “I love you.”

Shiro looks down at him. “I love you more.”

Keith knows not to bother trying to compete with Shiro. He shakes his head, smiling. Then he says, “Take me to bed.”

Shiro’s response is to momentarily extricate himself from Keith and stand from the couch. Then he bends back down and picks Keith up, bridal style.

“It’s so fucking hot when you do that,” says Keith, flushed.

Shiro grins. “In that case, should I just put you back down right in front of the tree on the faux fur rug?”

Keith looks down on the faux fur rug in question. It had been a gift from Lance. His idea of style. Keith had wanted to toss it (or maybe re-gift it to Ana), but Shiro had convinced him that would have been rude. So right smack dab in the living room the ridiculous rug had gone. Keith can’t imagine fucking on it.

“Let’s not,” he tells Shiro, thinking of the chafe.

Shiro laughs. “The bed it is.”

“But I want you to carry me the whole way there.”

“Was there ever any other option?”

Keith lets himself be carried to his bedroom in silence, his gaze holding Shiro’s the whole time. Only once Shiro gently lays him on the bed does he speak.

“I’m so fucking happy we’re going to spend Christmas together,” he whispers.

Shiro climbs onto the bed and straddles Keith. He kisses Keith’s lips softly. “I’m just so happy.”

 _You and me both_ , Keith thinks. _You and me both._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was ready last night but then ao3 was like NO so anyway here it be.


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